Tangled: A Moreno Brothers novella (10 page)

He kissed her deeply, wildly, his tongue mimicking what his
fingers were doing to her, and then he pulled away and sucked her neck. “What
is it you know, baby?” he asked in between sucking her neck. Unbelievably,
Isabel felt the beginning of a climax already. “That you’re all mine?” She
nodded as his fingers found that perfect spot and he began to work it so
perfectly. “That this,” he said, touching the most sensitive of spots. “This is
mine
and no one . . .”The sensation was building fast now. Isabel loved
how Romero knew her body so well. Knew exactly what he was doing to her, so he
slowed the rhythm of his fingers. “No one,” he whispered again against her ear
as she gasped in anticipation, “gets to even fantasize about it.” His fingers
were magical and her body began to quiver. “Say it, baby,” he said against her
lips then plunged his fingers into her again. “No one.”

A gasping moan escaped her again. “No one,” she agreed
breathlessly.

He devoured her mouth just as her climax began making her moan in
his mouth, for a moment forgetting about the kids being just a few doors down.
She kissed him madly as the amazing sensation shot through her body again and
again.

After all this time with this wonderful and sometimes hard-to-understand
man, Isabel understood him perfectly. This had only confirmed it. As offended
as she began to feel sometimes by his suspicions, Romero was just incapable of
controlling this part of him. He did trust
her
. Of this she was sure. He
had to. There was no way she’d ever do anything that would upset him in that
way. She’d been irked earlier that he might think she would, but he’d now made
it clear it was not what he was worried about. He simply couldn’t even bear the
thought that Elliot might somehow begin to covet her. And if she was completely
honest with herself, until Thanksgiving evening when she told Elliot about
being pregnant, she hadn’t completely forgotten about that one conversation they’d
had where she’d been inclined to leave certain parts out when discussing it
with her best friend and sisters.

Even on Thanksgiving night when he’d pulled her aside to ask her
about Reagan, the married girl who’d come on to him, she’d gotten the strange
feeling that he was trying to feel her out: see how she felt about adultery.

When she first told him she was pregnant, he seemed stunned. Though
he quickly made mention that she did appear to be glowing. He said pregnancy
clearly suited her and the moment he’d walked in that evening he’d thought her
more stunning than usual. When she’d been momentarily staggered by the way he’d
looked at her when he said it, he’d changed the subject to ask about what
Romero had said, so she’d gone on to explain how he still didn’t know, and they
moved past the awkward moment.

Of course, Elliot was beyond brilliant. A man like him would
never be so blatant. He’d been more than professional with her, and she’d since
shaken all thoughts about the possibility that he was feeling anything for her.
Still, she had to give it to Romero.

His worry hadn’t been completely unfounded.

The good thing was this was almost over, and she reminded herself
it was a complete hunch. There was no way she’d ever admit to Romero that she’d
ever gotten a weird vibe from Elliot. He’d be furious with her for not having
quit the second she picked up on it, but it felt almost arrogant to do so. Even
in those the two incidents, Elliot hadn’t done or said a single thing that proved
he’d done so inappropriately.

Another thing she wouldn’t be telling Romero was she really
wished she could quit now but couldn’t because Elliot had actually told her he’d
appreciate her staying at least until Christmas break. She wouldn’t tell Romero,
partly because it would ruin the surprise and partly because, while Romero was
terrible at picking up on hints, he’d become a pro at one thing—reading her
emotions.

This was why she still wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep the
pregnancy from him until Christmas. If she told him she was tempted to quit now,
she was certain he’d pick up on the fact that it was more than just because of
how exhausted she was. He’d know something was up. Romero had a way of getting
things out of her when he really set his mind to it and knew there was more to
what she was admitting to him. She had no doubt if he
really
believed
there was more he’d get it out of her and likely insist she quit ASAP.

In spite of the vibe she’d picked up from Elliot, he truly had
been a complete gentleman to her thus far. She didn’t want to leave him high
and dry before he could find a replacement. This had started as more of a favor
to her than anything, but he did say he’d begun to count on her a great deal
now and scheduled many of his lectures and assignments with her assistance in
mind. So she’d just have to bite the bullet and hang in there for another
couple of weeks.

Romero lifted her and carried her off to their bed for what
Isabel was certain would be another amazing marathon evening of lovemaking. As
he lay down next to her, he was about to start doing what she knew he loved
doing so much of before he’d even take off his clothes—kiss her until she was
nearly losing her mind again. But she stopped him to say something she had to.

“I love you, Romero.”

His response was immediate. “I love you too, baby.”

But she wasn’t done, so she touched his lips with her finger
before he began devouring her mouth again. The moment she was able to come up
for air she had to say it. “Please know that, no matter what, you don’t ever
have to worry about me not being yours and yours
only
for eternity.
Okay?”

The unmistakable flicker she saw in his eyes was quick, but she
hadn’t missed it.
He smiled, kissing her
softly. “All mine for eternity. I fucking
love
that.”

He kissed her a little longer,
and the marathon was on. She’d be more than exhausted tomorrow at work, but she
could already tell this would be completely worth every yawn.

Eight

Fucking Brilliant

ecause of the nature of Romero’s work, he had a
heightened awareness for the signs of infidelity. He’d confirmed countless suspicions
for clients over the years and had become a bit jaded about just how often this
happens in marriages. It was beyond disheartening, not to mention alarming, how
the most seemingly moral and decent people could get caught up in cheating—something
he couldn’t even fathom.

Not since he’d met and fallen so hard for his Izzy had the
thought of being with anyone else crossed his mind. In fact, he didn’t even
have patience for the women who still came on too strong sometimes, even knowing
he was a married man. He’d seen that side of Izzy long ago, the side that
wouldn’t tolerate any of that type of bullshit, and he hadn’t even
done
anything. So when women didn’t get the hint and still flirted with him, he didn’t
care if he was rudely blunt. He’d be damned if he’d allow anything that might
upset his wife.

When he’d started this job, he’d always assumed men cheated far
more than women, so it was most eye-opening that he’d had equal numbers of jobs
from husbands hiring him to follow their wives. And it was never what he imagined
either: some pole-dancing whore you’d know just by looking at her who would be
a cheat just for the taste of it. It was always the ones he would’ve least
suspected: upper class, well-educated women with respectable jobs. Women who should
know better or at the very least have the decency to walk away from the
marriage if they weren’t happy. Not stray.

It wasn’t all coldhearted and brashly done either. In all the
years he’d been sleuthing, he’d listened in on plenty of private conversations
of wives in tears, insisting they loved their husbands and shamefully admitting
how they were unable to believe it themselves that they were doing what they
were doing. But they were still fucking doing it, damn it.

One woman in particular came to mind. It was one of the few cases
that seemed so cut and dried, yet Romero had actually played a part in saving
the marriage. But it still had gotten to him so much he’d actually talked to
the Morenos about it one day when they were hanging out. He usually didn’t
share specifics about any given case he worked, but that time he was curious on
their take.

The couple was in their early thirties. They’d finally had twin
boys after several expensive tries using in-vitro fertilization. She’d stayed
home with the twins for a year but then went back to her nursing job a few days
a week. She worked twelve-hour shifts at the hospital, and according to the
husband, they didn’t have any marital issues. He said the only low they’d had
their entire marriage was the fact that they’d had such a hard time conceiving but
now that they’d had their boys he
thought
things were perfect.

As with all his other clients, the clues were all there even
before Romero began his investigation: the changes in her mood, the hushed
calls, or calls at odd hours at night, even the sudden lack of interest in sex,
which was one of the most telling signs especially in younger couples. But he
attributed her lack of interest in sex to exhaustion from work and then dealing
with the twins on her days off. And he insisted they had a very happy marriage,
only his suspicions had gotten to the point where he needed to know.

Romero was almost certain that, like with all the other clients who
already knew but just went to him to get full confirmation before ending their
marriage, this, too, would end the way most of the others had. Her husband had
brought in her car so Romero could bug it. Within a week, Romero had the
recordings he needed. First, the nervous giggly conversations she had on her
cell with someone named Ted, whom she was obviously flirting with. Then later came
the call with her sister when she confessed to being attracted to Ted. Ted
turned out to be a doctor at the hospital where she worked. According to what
she’d told her sister, she hadn’t actually done anything, but she said she was
tempted to take him up on his offer to have a drink.

From the sound of the conversation, since he could only hear her
end, her sister was trying to talk her out of it. One of the times she’d broken
down crying, saying it was only when she was at work and around Ted that she
felt alive and jubilant again and not just a worn-out mommy. Apparently, the
attempts at getting pregnant and obsessing about it for so many years had taken
its toll. When she was home now, everything revolved around the kids. It was
all they ever talked about, and they’d even begun to discuss how much longer
they should wait before trying again since they were no spring chickens. She said
she hadn’t felt sexy and thought of sex in more than just in terms of getting
pregnant in years. So getting out of the house with Ted making her feel sexy
was a welcome and much-needed break from the monotony.

Then there was the conversation with her and Ted in the car
together. Romero knew the guy was older, was married too, and after hearing
their conversation in the car, was a pushy prick. It was obvious all he was looking
to get out of it was his jollies from banging a much younger woman. It was also
obvious that he’d picked up on her vulnerability, and while Romero wasn’t
making excuses for her, the conversation had been maddening.

She really didn’t want to.

He’d already listened in on her telling her sister just talking
to him and hearing him say she was sexy was exciting enough and all she needed but
that he’d begun to wear her down. Romero had been wary of that. It sounded like
bullshit to him when she’d told her sister, but hearing the asshole and the way
he practically begged for them to go get a room, even though she kept saying
she just couldn’t, made Romero want to punch the guy in the fucking throat
himself.

They didn’t get the room, but he convinced her to let him do
something he said he’d been
dying
to—kiss her. It was a long one too
because the silence had gone on pretty long until she finally said she had to
stop. Later, she’d called her sister and had broken down crying again when she
confessed to having let him kiss her. She said she never would’ve believed she’d
do anything like that in a million years, much less even consider getting a
room with another man, as she had for a moment. She sounded genuinely
remorseful, and unbelievably, Romero had felt bad for her.

Romero called her husband and let him in on it immediately. He
wouldn’t even allow himself to think about the possibility of Izzy ever doing
anything remotely close to what this man’s wife had done. Even if there’d been
no kiss, the simple fact that Izzy would even carry on a flirtation with a guy
that might have her considering what this woman had, would be an end-all for
him. Despite feeling bad for this guy’s wife, Romero couldn’t imagine forgiving
Izzy. But he hoped this guy’s marriage was still salvageable for their twins’sake
and because he’d heard it in the guy’s wife’s voice. She wasn’t the cheating
type. She was just enjoying the whole excitement of it, and she’d let it go too
far. So for the first time in Romero’s career, he withheld information from the
client. While he did tell him all the other stuff that would be just as heart-spearing—that
she’d been flirting and enjoyed it and even admitted to her sister that she was
tempted to cheat and cried about it—he kept the part about the kiss to himself.

For some reason, all these guys he once considered saps thought
that just because Romero dealt with this so often he’d have advice for them. In
most cases, their spouses were blatantly cheating and doing so over and over,
so Romero’s advice was always “Dump the bitch.”